


and i always get away

by shineyma



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s02e07 The Writing on the Wall, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22405810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shineyma/pseuds/shineyma
Summary: Grant needs a new plan. Fast.
Relationships: Jemma Simmons/Grant Ward
Comments: 12
Kudos: 118





	and i always get away

**Author's Note:**

> *bows* Week 4 down!
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, please be gentle if you review! <3

All of Grant’s plans for his meeting with Sunil Bakshi go out the window before it even starts.

He was expecting Bakshi to bring company to the meeting. Grant’s been Hydra for more than a decade, sure, but he’s from a different branch _and_ just popped up after falling off the map for eight months. Only an idiot would show up to this meeting unguarded, and Bakshi doesn’t. The guards aren’t the surprise.

The surprise is that _Jemma fucking Simmons_ enters the tavern at Bakshi’s side. Not just at his side—while they’re not touching at all, Grant reads a surprising amount of intimacy in their body language. They’re familiar with each other. Comfortable. She’s saying something, and Bakshi has his head bent close to listen, well inside her personal space.

Grant needs a new plan. Fast.

It’s not a huge problem—he’s never had any difficulty thinking on his feet—but the particulars of any plan depend on details he doesn’t have. There’s no reason Simmons should know Bakshi at all, let alone well enough not to be bothered by his proximity. There’s no reason she should be here, at a meeting Grant set up with Hydra, flanked by two Hydra agents and practically arm-in-arm with a third.

There are two possible explanations, and if he goes with the wrong one…

Simmons doesn’t notice him at first, attention fixed on Bakshi as it is. When she _does_ , she freezes, eyes going wide. Even from his place at the bar, he can see the blood drain out of her face.

Apparently her new friend didn’t tell her who they were coming here to meet. Good news for him, because her reaction is very telling.

He’s pretty sure he knows what she’s doing here.

Without taking her eyes off of Grant, Simmons says something to Bakshi. Her mouth barely moves at all, so he can’t read her lips, but Bakshi’s response comes across just fine.

 _I wanted your opinion_.

Okay. Grant can work with this.

A new plan slots neatly into place.

As Bakshi speaks, he touches Simmons’ shoulder, and Grant shoots to his feet. It’s barely any contact, just the tips of Bakshi’s fingers on her coat, but it’s more than Grant himself has had in _months_. It would drive him crazy.

Whether by the touch or Grant’s movement—or even by the look on his face—Simmons is shaken out of her shock. Before she can do anything inconvenient or irreversible, he opens his arms to her in invitation.

She blinks once, twice, and then all but throws herself across the room and into his embrace.

Considering the way they left things, it’s a bit of a surprise—but only a bit of one.

Even as she’s clinging to him—hands fisted in the back of his jacket, face hidden against his shoulder, body pressed in close—she’s tense. He can feel her heart racing, feels her breath catch as he slides one hand up her back to cradle her head against his shoulder.

She’s as terrified as he would’ve expected, but she’s hugging him anyway. It’s the final bit of evidence he needs to confirm his suspicions.

Simmons is undercover.

He doesn’t know what the fuck Coulson was thinking—does Coulson even know? Or did she just run off to spy on Hydra without telling anyone? That’d be typical Simmons—but he’s gotta admit, he’s grateful. As much as he liked his original plan (and it’s a shame he’s not gonna get to deal with Christian after all), whole new roads are opening up before him.

Grant can use this like he could’ve used nothing else.

“You’re alive,” she says, voice tremulous.

“I’m alive,” he confirms, playing along. Her breath hitches. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she says, as Bakshi makes his leisurely way over. “No. I don’t—I don’t know. Where have you _been_?”

He’s impressed. She knows perfectly well that he’s been locked in a basement cell for the past eight months, but you’d never know it by the combination of anger, relief, and residual worry in her voice. Somewhere along the line, she’s learned how to lie.

Nothing like throwing them in the deep end to teach them how to swim, Grant guesses, but it doesn’t sit well in his gut. As well as this is gonna work out for him…if Coulson _did_ know, if this was _his_ plan, Grant might actually have to murder him for it.

Simmons could’ve been _killed_.

“In a cell,” he says, and feels her tense further. “Got on the wrong side of SHIELD.”

“Oh,” she says faintly, and then swallows. “How—how did you escape?”

No doubt she’s picturing a slaughter at that base, the whole team dead in the hallways. He _could_ ease her mind, but there’s no telling how long they’re gonna get before Bakshi loses his patience. He needs to get the message across, let her know what he’s planning _and_ convince her to play along.

So without letting go of her, he leans back, putting enough space between them that he can tip her chin up to meet her eyes. They’re filled with terror—she must think he’s about to break her cover—but she doesn’t knock his hand away when he brushes her hair away from her face. It’s an encouraging sign.

“Forget about that, baby,” he says, and watches her eyes narrow. “What about _you_? What happened to you after the uprising?”

She’s silent. He can see the calculations running behind her eyes, can almost _hear_ her weighing her options and analyzing his word choice. It’s not much of a hint; to help her along, he drops his hand to her shoulder and drums his fingers in a quick one-two-one pattern.

Her eyes narrow further. Her jaw tenses.

He drums his fingers again.

 _You have got to be fucking kidding me_ , her scowl screams.

His raised eyebrow is meant to point out she doesn’t have much choice.

She hitches her chin in a way that indicates he’s in the same boat.

Which, as his pleased smile tells her, is exactly the point.

He drums his fingers against her shoulder again. With _fuck you_ written all over her face, Simmons drums hers back.

The whole exchange takes maybe five seconds. Bakshi doesn’t notice a thing.

“After the—the Hub,” Simmons says, “I went to the safehouse. I waited, but you never—”

She breaks off, pressing her trembling lips together tightly. Her eyes well with tears; behind her, Bakshi shifts impatiently. For his part, though, Grant is impressed.

There’s genuine emotion in her voice. The story’s bullshit and they both know it, but she _sounds_ seriously distraught. She’s using her fear (of him and/or the situation), redirecting it to sell her story. It’s a good move, and one she wouldn’t have been able to make eight months ago.

It’s kind of a turn-on, if he’s honest.

“After a few weeks, I turned to Hydra,” she continues after a second. “I know it wasn’t what we agreed, but I—I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Smart move,” he says. To their audience, it sounds like he’s commenting on her choice to turn to Hydra; Simmons knows he’s talking about her play. She’s linked them up, made it sound like they had a plan before the uprising—implied they’ve been on the same side since the beginning.

It gives her additional legitimacy through a connection to a genuine, long-time Hydra loyalist _and_ explains why she didn’t join up the day the call went out. Even terrified and angry, she’s thinking on her feet and reinforcing her cover.

He’s genuinely impressed.

“That is,” he adds, looking past her to meet Bakshi’s eyes and slipping a little bit of threat into his voice, “assuming Hydra’s taken good care of you.”

Simmons tenses further at his tone, but her voice stays steady. “They have. Don’t worry.”

Something in Bakshi’s face makes him doubt it, but he doesn’t get a chance to press the issue.

“I didn’t realize you and Mr. Ward were so close, Miss Simmons,” Bakshi says, and Simmons twitches.

(Even odds whether that’s down to the sudden need to defend herself or the _Miss_.)

“My fault,” Grant says. She may be a better liar than before _and_ impressively quick at thinking on her feet, but between them, he’s still the professional undercover operative. Better for him to do the direct explanations. “We had to hide our relationship before the uprising.” He shrugs, casual. “When you’re running a honeypot scheme, no one can know you’ve got a girlfriend. You know how it is.”

Bakshi looks skeptical. “I didn’t see any recent honeypot schemes in your file.”

Fuck, of course Bakshi looked at his file before this meeting. Grant’s just lucky the three days he and Simmons spent pretending to be a couple—the origin of their one-two-one signal, which he introduced as a way for Simmons to indicate whether or not she was comfortable with how he was touching her but worked well enough as a signal of his intentions here—were part of a larger op and not specifically assigned.

“No,” he agrees. “But my orders were to ingratiate myself with our team, and the fucking Cavalry was our pilot. Playing the infatuated fanboy was the best way to throw her off.”

At that, Simmons shifts her weight. It’s probably not a coincidence she ends up standing on his foot.

“I see,” Bakshi says. “Well, as I wasn’t aware of your…relationship, I certainly didn’t arrive expecting a reunion. I assume you called me here for a reason, Mr. Ward?”

“I did,” Grant says, and tips his head towards the tables near the back. “Why don’t we have a seat?”

“Very well,” Bakshi says, and gestures to the bartender.

Grant keeps his hold on Simmons, drawing her along to the table with an arm around her shoulders, and she follows willingly enough. She’s tense, but there’s not much she can do without making a scene.

Whether she likes it or not—and he’s guessing not—they’re in this together now. No escaping it without blowing her own cover.

Speaking of which, he almost forgot: he let the cowboy from the bus follow him here, and he would’ve seen Simmons come in with Bakshi. Which means SHIELD knows he and Simmons are here in the same room.

How’s Coulson gonna play it? Will he trust Simmons to talk her way out of trouble? Or will he send a team in, guns blazing, to save her and pull her out?

If he goes with the second option, Grant’s dead for sure. They won’t be aiming to bring him in alive, not after the threat he made at the bus station.

Lucky for him, he’s got a ready-made hostage—and with that in mind, rather than letting Simmons sit next to him, he sits down and pulls her into his lap.

Of course, he’s barely got her in place before she’s trying to stand. He gives her a concerned look as he easily holds her still.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, squeezing her hip just hard enough to remind her of their audience.

“ _Grant_ ,” she says, fingers digging into his shoulder, “Mr. Bakshi is—”

“Mr. Bakshi won’t begrudge us a little bit of PDA,” he says, rubbing his hand along her thigh. Her fingers dig in a little harder. “Not after we’ve been separated for so long.” He raises an eyebrow at the sour-faced Bakshi. “Will you?”

“Not at all,” he says with a tight smile. “Considering the circumstances, I believe a lapse in professionalism is permissible, Miss Simmons.”

Simmons takes Grant’s hand so she can dig her nails into his palm as she turns to look at Bakshi.

“Thank you, Mr. Bakshi,” she says, impressively sincerely. “If you’ll forgive me for asking—you said before you brought me because you wanted my opinion. On what?”

“Ah.” Bakshi folds his hands on the table. “It’s now perhaps a moot point, but…Mr. Ward has been missing for nearly a year. And,” he eyes Grant, “your loyalties, Mr. Ward, were known to be quite firmly with John Garrett, who is now dead.”

As funny as John’s death will _never_ be, Grant has to hold back a laugh at the way Simmons’ grip on his hand goes suddenly limp. She’s just put the pieces together.

“Though I was unaware of your romantic history,” Bakshi continues, “your time together on a field team is well-documented. I wanted your opinion on whether Mr. Ward was likely to be trustworthy.”

Simmons turns back to stare at Grant.

 _You absolute bastard_ , her blank face says.

He’s careful to keep his returning smile sweet and not smug, but is it ever hard.

The only reason Simmons played along with his last-minute plan to fake a relationship with her was because she was afraid he would blow her cover. Now she knows why he sprung it on her in the first place—so _she_ couldn’t blow _his_.

There’s obviously some trust between Bakshi and Simmons, some strong bond she’s somehow managed to establish. If she’d said he must be here as a spy, Bakshi’d have believed it, and that’d be Grant screwed out of working for Hydra ever again.

Now, as much as she’d love to—as much as she must be absolutely _dying_ to—she can’t blow his cover without burning herself along with him.

Her nails dig into his palm again, this time hard enough to draw blood.

“Oh, yes,” she says calmly. “Perfectly trustworthy.”

Still holding back a laugh, Grant presses a kiss to her cheek.

She’s probably gonna punch him in the face the minute they’re alone. It’s worth it.


End file.
